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Borrow, George Henry, 1803-1881

"The Romany Rye"

The room, notwithstanding
the window was flung open, was in general so filled with smoke,
chiefly that which was drawn from the huge bowl of the foreigner,
that my companions and I were frequently concealed from each
other's eyes. The conversation, which related entirely to the
events of the fair, was carried on by the jockey and myself, the
foreigner, who appeared to understand the greater part of what we
said, occasionally putting in a few observations in broken English.
At length the jockey, after the other had made some ineffectual
attempts to express something intelligibly which he wished to say,
observed, "Isn't it a pity that so fine a fellow as meinheer, and
so clever a fellow too, as I believe him to be, is not a better
master of our language?"
"Is the gentleman a German?" said I; "if so, I can interpret for
him anything he wishes to say."
"The deuce you can," said the jockey, taking his pipe out of his
mouth, and staring at me through the smoke.
"Ha! you speak German," vociferated the foreigner in that language.
"By Isten, I am glad of it! I wanted to say--" And here he said
in German what he wished to say, and which was of no great
importance, and which I translated into English.
"Well, if you don't put me out," said the jockey; "what language is
that--Dutch?"
"High Dutch," said I.


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